My songs were once of the sunrise: They shouted it over the bar; First-footing the dawns, they flourished, And flamed with the morning star. My songs are now of the sunset: Their brows are touched with light, But their feet are lost in the shadows And wet with the dews of night.
William Ernest HenleyRelated topics
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Oh dear and laughing, lost to me,
Hidden in grey Eternity,
I shall attain, with burning feet,
To you and to the mercy-seat!
The ages crumble down like dust,
Dark roses, deviously thrust
And scattered in sweet wine - but I,
I shall lift up to you my cry,
And kiss your wet lips presently
Beneath the ever-living Tree.
Stephen Vincent Benét